


What Could Go Wrong?

by anistarrose



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bodyswap, Gen, Young Stan Twins, stan is a smartass, very mild Stangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:44:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anistarrose/pseuds/anistarrose
Summary: Ford is trying to find a way to activate his and Stan's alleged latent twin telepathy powers, but the invention he creates doesn't work as planned.





	What Could Go Wrong?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [an ask I got on Tumblr,](https://anistarrose.tumblr.com/post/178460453226/imagine-if-ford-and-stan-switch-bodies-like) and just couldn't refrain from writing an entire one-shot about!

“I still dunno about this whole twin telepathy thing,” Stan whispered to Ford as they crouched in the closet of the school’s science lab, waiting for the janitor to leave. “Mom says it’s not supposed to start happenin’ until we’re older — if it even does at all.”

“But there were psychic twins who were younger than us in a bunch of those age-inappropriate horror novels we read last summer!” Ford replied in a hushed voice. “And those wouldn’t lie, would they?”

Stan’s retort was interrupted by the lab’s main door slamming closed as the janitor left, and the two boys burst out of the closet, gasping for air.

“Finally, sweet freedom!” Stan declared, and then added, “Seriously, Poindexter, would it _kill_ you to wash your dumb stinky jacket once in a while?”

Ford ignored him and pulled out from his pocket a small, rectangular device with several exposed wires on it. “My hypothesis is that as twins, we automatically have the _potential_ for a telepathic connection, but for one reason or another, our minds aren’t properly synchronized for it at the moment. But this device will fix that! Just a few finishing touches, and our family should have two more psychics!”

Stan opened a bag of toffee peanuts. “Yeah, how long are these finishin’ touches gonna take?”

“Not long,” Ford assured him. “I already did everything I could at home — I just need to borrow a couple parts that I didn’t have there. Hey, rub off these alligator clips with some steel wool, would you? They look kind of rusty.”

It only took Ford about five minutes to complete the project, which was somehow enough for Stan to both clean the equipment and scarf down the entire bag of peanuts.

“Tape this to your forehead,” Ford instructed Stan, handing him a wire, and Stan gave it a wary look.

“You’re not gonna, like, fry my brains so bad they leak out of my ears, right?”

“Sweet Moses, no! There’ll be a series of shocks applied to both of us at the same time, in order to synchronize our minds, but they’ll be very mild — only about as strong as the static electricity you encounter every day.”

“Are _you_ rubbing your wool socks all over the carpet every day? ‘Cause I sure ain’t,” Stan muttered, but he did as Ford said and taped the electrode to his forehead.

“Alright, time to make history!” Ford declared as he fiddled with the device’s hastily attached dial.

“When we get psychic powers I’m gonna make you wash your jacket,” Stan told him.

“Telepathy isn’t _mind control_ , Stanley… alright. Stay as still as you can for the next sixty seconds, starting in three, two, one…”

In the thousandth of a second between him flicking the _On_ switch and the synchronizer responding, Ford had just enough time to think the famous last words: _I wonder if this is a good idea._

Then everything went white, and it was no longer a matter of wondering.

***

Ford got back up to his feet, blinking and rubbing his head. He felt cold, and his vision was blurry, but he could see Stan facedown on the ground just a few feet away from him, holding onto Ford’s invention tightly.

“Oh my gosh! That — that wasn’t supposed to happen! Stanley, are you okay? I’m so sorry — I should have tested it before — I didn’t think it would —”

Stan groggily lifted his head, and Ford’s worry turned into pure, undiluted confusion.

“Did you… take my _glasses_? When did you even have time to _do_ that? Was I — was I _unconscious_? Did I —”

Stan gave him a look like some kind of startled owl, then looked down to stare at the device in his hands… no, not at the device. At his hands themselves.

It was at that moment that Ford finally noticed that he could feel a gap between two of his teeth, and that “Stan” was also wearing _his_ brown jacket. He raised his hands to count his fingers, and for the first time in his life, the result was the normal number.

“Stan, am I in your body?!” he blurted out, even knowing there was no other possible explanation.

“You tell _me_ , Sixer! It was your invention!” Stan responded. “Wait, except _I’m_ Sixer now, aren’t I? Whoa. That’s weird!”

Ford shuddered. “We’ve got to fix this! Quick, give me the synchronizer! It might be able to switch us back if we run it on the same setting again!”

Stan looked to the device still gripped tightly in his hand. “Uh, I hate to break it to you, Poindexter, but I dunno if this thing’s gonna be much help. It’s kinda… smoking?”

“Shit!” Ford yelled, and despite everything, Stan laughed. “No, shoot! I meant _shoot_! I didn’t just swear!”

“Ha! You’re me now, you gotta deal with my potty mouth!”

Ford felt like slamming his head on the lab desk. “Stanley, can’t you just stop wisecracking for a moment and take this seriously?! And — and for the love of Tesla, drop that synchronizer before it blows up in your face!”

His voice came out angrier than he meant it to, and Stan nodded guiltily, setting the device down on the table a decent way away from them. Ford used a glass rod to flick the switch to the _Off_ position, and sighed.

“Okay, I think that if it was going to explode, it probably would have happened by now. But I don’t think it’s going to be salvageable either, and since clearly it wasn’t operating as planned when it switched us… I don’t know if I’m going to be able to rebuild it the same way to switch us back.”

Stan put a six-fingered hand on his shoulder. It was a strange sensation, to finally know what it felt like to Stan when Ford patted him on the shoulder or the back.

“Hey, if anyone can, it’s probably you, Poindexter. And in the meantime, it’s not like we’re not already great at pretending to be each other!”

He adjusted his — _Ford’s_ — glasses. “Okay, watch this: ‘Hello, I’m Stanford Pines! Do you have any books about aliens here? My classmates say they don’t exist, but they’re just buying into what the government wants them to think!’ See, Ford, I could do this for _years_!”

Ford shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile. “As if _I’d_ go around just _admitting_ that I don’t believe their brainwashing. You never know who could be listening to that kind of thing,” he replied, deadpan.

“See, it ain’t so bad,” Stan told him. “You’ll figure out a fix eventually. And besides, I’ve always kinda wanted six fingers.”

“What?”

“‘Cept I don’t wanna, like, _steal_ them from you, so of course I hope you do get us switched back — yeah, Ford! Why wouldn’t I?”

Stan poked him in the shoulder. “Stanford? Something wrong?”

Ford shook his head. “No, it’s just…”

He couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth, to say _I was afraid we’d be stuck like this forever, and you’d start getting bullied instead of me and start to hate me for it and realize how much of a freak I really am —_

But then again, he wasn’t really afraid of that anymore, was he?

“No, I’m… I’m fine, now. Thanks, Stanley.”

Stanley blinked at him (did he really look _that much like an owl?_ ) and nodded slowly. “Uh, I don’t really know what you’re talking about, but… you’re welcome, I guess!”

Ford smiled. “Honestly… we should probably head home now. I think I might work better after a night of sleep.”

“Yeah, plus I only bribed Shermie with five bucks. He’s only gonna cover for us until dinner and not any longer.”

“Well, then, I guess that settles it.”

***

“Stan, are you you again?”

“Yep, back to a boring five fingers.”

“Well, then I’m getting rid of this.” Ford pulled the batteries out of the synchronizer, wrapped the stray wires around it, and drop-kicked it into the science lab’s brick wall. “Good riddance!”

“Sixer, what the heck was that for? You could’ve _sold_ that for a ton of money! Or even just, I dunno, impressed your teachers a whole lot with it?!”

Ford shook his head. “It took too many tries to get this one to work again. It’s not working consistently enough to be shared with anyone, and I’m… not up for more experimentation. At least not now. But… I might revisit it in the future.”

“That’s the spirit!” Stan cheered. “I’m sure you’ll be better with lab safety by then — what could go wrong?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, comments are welcomed as always!
> 
> (Left unrated because I'm unsure if the lone swear word should push it past the General rating or not; if anyone has advice it would be appreciated!)


End file.
